Archive for the ‘From the recesses’ Category

four years ago…
we woke to the aftermath of Hurricane Charley.
it was the beginning of far too many days without power.
we each ate a half gallon of ice cream for breakfast.
we realized how lucky we were.

we had no idea Frances and Jeanne were on the horizon.

UPDATED: I’m going to copy of my text from live blogging Charley, because I’m reading it now and find it fascinating. And because I can fix some of those broken picture links over here but not over there. Read the rest of this entry »

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Yesterday afternoon, I read a post by a girl I went to college with. It stirred up emotions in me, but I was at work, and therefore unable to devote much time to the comment I wanted to leave. After further thought, I decided it would be best to forgo commenting and instead rant on my own blog, as I’m certain my comment would have been too lengthy to be considered polite.

Super long, rambling rant in the extended entry.
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OMG! I think I finally found someone who was my best friend my senior year of high school on Facebook. It’s hard to be certain, but I sent her a message asking if she’s who I think she is. Over the years, I have missed this girl more than almost every other person I went to high school(s) with. Odd, since I only went to that particular high school for one year (my senior year, her junior year). But she lived two blocks from me, and due to the happy error of me going to her bus stop instead of the one I was actually zoned for, we usually rode the bus to school together. And we were in Spanish V together. And I dragged her into that nightmare traveling Christian teenagers singing group. Also, I have very fond memories of her family. And scary memories of when I would watch their house and dog when they vacationed, and how spooked I always was going into their house knowing about the suicide in the basement, and my overactive imagination.

Anyway, ever since I moved away from Auburn, NY in 1996, I have missed this person and wanted to track her down. And now I think I have!

I wonder if she still has that video tape I left at her parent’s house. We had a project in Spanish class where we had to partner up and make a television show. That school had a television studio that I stupidly never took advantage of. Anyway, she and I made a hilarious show — the funniest out of our entire class — and we used to watch that tape over and over. And like a moron, I left it at her house. I’d love to have a copy of that to embarrass myself with. Then youse guys can taunt me for the rest of eternity with fun lines like, “Ay! Mi pelo azul!” And I’ll laugh and remember not all my high school memories were horrid.

So, I hope it’s her. I hope she remembers me as fondly as I remember her. I hope we can reconnect. And then, I hope she has the tape.

that nightmare Christian signing group
Back Row L-R: Me, ?, ?, The Girl This Post Is About, Sometimes-Reader “Joey” who has this picture I stole from his facebook profile

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My husband sent me this article about why couples copulate in public. TMI below the fold.
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Can you remember the first time you slipped up and uttered profanity in front of your parents? I can’t recall when I first swore (and knew it) in front of them. I know I was swearing with my friends in fifth grade, and have had a filthy mouth since then. But as far as intentionally swearing, I cannot recall.

I do, however, recall the first time I swore and didn’t realize I was saying something forbidden, but got punished for it anyway. We were living on Lima Street in Aurora, Colorado, so I would have been in third or fourth grade, and therefore eight or nine years old. I remember seeing our cat, Snowball, sprawled under the dining room table with her head set on the foot of the leg of the table. I loudly proclaimed, “Jesus Christ, Snowball, you’ll rest your head on anything!”

Mom, Dad, and Jason froze.

The problem with the punishment I received was that I did not know what I had said that was so wrong. But I remember the punishment. Years later, as this event apparently scarred me, I realized that taking the Lord’s name in vain was my crime.

It does no good to punish your kid if your kid does not know what they did wrong.

Fast forward to last night. Driving home with RTY in the back seat, sherlock and RTY were telling me all about their day, including the results of Guitar Hero.

Sherlock: I beat her butt! I’m amazed she can sit at all with the beating she received.
RTY: No, I kicked your ass.
Me: Excuse me?
RTY: Butt. I mean butt. Sorry.

Later, as RTY apparently dozed off in the back seat…
Sherlock: One time this morning I said I’d kick her ass, and I caught myself, and knew it would come back to bite me.
Me: You just didn’t know it would come back so quickly.
Sherlock: nope.
Me: Did you hear how naturally that rolled off her tongue? That’s not her first time saying that. Which is about right, in the time line of life. I think I was swearing heavily in fifth grade.

It doesn’t make it okay, and she is certainly not allowed to swear in front of us. But, it’s about right in the time line, isn’t it? When do you recall swearing with your friends? I remember it as early as third grade, since my older brother was my best friend, and I had to keep up with what the older kids were doing. But it’s not until sixth grade that I really remember it — playing four-square at recess (why did we have recess in middle school?) and swearing with the other kids.

RTY was four or five when she slipped the F word into conversation. And she immediately caught herself and started crying. But, that time, she was telling a story, and part of the story was, “then she said…” and repeated what her older relative had said to her that included the F word.

Also, kids now hear more profanity than I did. It’s in so many songs, television shows, movies, and ::ahem:: conversations at home. I’m guilty: Dumbass is one of my standard proclamations shouted at other drivers with my kid in the car. And, more recently, we have been less careful about when we utter the F word.

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Misses arrived. She sat on the couch and small talked with me.

Mister arrived. He made a grand entrance. He threw his arms out from his sides (like one would when about to embrace an old, dear friend), got a shocked look on his face, and said, “W! Long time no see!” as he then leaned over my desk, entering into my personal space. (W, not WB, as one who knows me well would shorten my name down to something more casual and familiar.)
“Hi FirstName!” as I pulled back (personal space issues).
“Why are you pulling away? I’m giving you a kiss?”
“Oh, sorry.”
He kissed me on the cheek, as old, dear friends might do if they’re not me, as I’m disinclined to enter someone’s facial personal space, and even less inclined to kiss people.
He continued, “it’s been a really long time.”
“It’s been seven or eight years.” Then, to Bosslady, “Yes, I think he might remember me.” (she asked me about an hour ago if I thought he’d remember me, and I said I hoped not, and related how I cried on sherlock’s shoulder last night about how anxious I was about this meeting.)
Laughter all around.
Misses: “How do you know each other?” Looking bewildered, I think.
“I used to work at CompanyM.” I said.
“Wow! Small world,” said Mister. “How long has it been?”
“Well, I was laid off in 2001, so…”
“Seven years. Wow.”

…it continued, but the rest is unimportant…

Well, at least is seems to be a warm memory for him, whereas for me it’s icy. My life kind of spiraled after I was laid off from that company. Here’s hoping Bosslady closes this deal and we get mucho moolah from them. That would make me feel better.

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Oh I hate when my past collides with my present. Hate it. It makes me feel… ill-at-ease.

When this name first crossed my desk weeks ago, I thought to myself, “that a familiar name. I wonder if it’s the person I know?”

When the wife came into my office last week, I thought to myself, “her husband’s name is so familiar.” But I didn’t recognize her. Of course, I wasn’t looking to recognize her.

Now that I’m about to call and confirm their appointment here tomorrow, I have the contact info open in Outlook that I did not enter into Outlook, the husband’s email address is at one of my former places of employment.

And I’m feeling awkward now.

I told Bosslady I used to work with the husband. She said, “can you tell me something about him?” He had LASIK in 2000. “That’s not what I want to know.” I talked about what I remembered of him. It’s not much; I have a lousy memory and that was 2000-2001.

I’m feeling apprehensive. I hope he doesn’t remember me. I have a new last name. I have thirty additional pounds.

All I can think is that when he knew me, I was just an administrative assistant. And a writer. I wrote the monthly company newsletter. And an editor. I edited every single document in that company. They churned out 100+ page business plans monthly, along with a plethora of legalese pages, and I had to turn the very technical documents into readable English. Now, if he comes in tomorrow and sees me sitting here at the receptionist desk, and if he remembers me, he’ll think, “oh, gee, she’s a secretary. Eight years later, and she’s still just a secretary.”

profanity barrier Read the rest of this entry »

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Back in sixth grade, when Jared knew me and I had the ugliest teeth ever.

(the part I cut off listed me as 6th grade, but I remember 6th grade at Isaac Newton Middle School, not Cherry Creek Christian Academy. Then again, we moved so often, how can I keep track?)

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Okay, so I’m conflicted. On the one hand, I’m more than a little bit jealous that Claudia and Amanda have super fantastic floor seats for the upcoming NKOTB concert. I watched their performance on the today show:

And it stirred up that ugly little girl with the crooked teeth who loved Joey and had all their faces plastered on her bedroom walls.

But on the other hand, I watched that video and suffered severe eye strain from all the eye rolling I did. Honestly. I mean, good for them and all, but don’t they feel a teensy bit silly? (asked the girl who could still sing along with all those songs)

I never went to a NKOTB concert. I suspect that’s something I should be proud of since I did a 180 and started hating them after loving them. But, I’m still a little jealous that Claudia and Amanda are going. But $200 for tickets? I’d pay that to see Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin or The Who — you know, a really great band — but NKOTB? Not so much.

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So I logged into my facebook account this morning and checked my email there. I was bombarded with a thread from a bunch of people I attended high school with — most of whom I have not yet re-connected with — about the upcoming class reunion. I had no idea.

I cannot imagine going back and seeing people from fifteen years ago. Do people really attend these things? I couldn’t relate to them then (what with me being poor and having ridiculously crooked teeth in a society that demanded beauty); do you honestly think I’d be able to relate to them now?

Still, it’s interesting to read the exchange. And I want to smack myself when I remember I kissed one of those people (when I was a freshman). What was I thinking???

On the other hand, I would like to bring sherlock to Skaneateles and show him where I spent some of my teenage years. It’s really unlike Orlando. I would have to find some fabulous flight deals, though, to be able to plan a trip to upstate New York. Oh, and win the lottery.

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so, my old college roommate is now on facebook.

that’s all i have to say about that.

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OMG! We just ran into my ex-SIL at store-that-shall-go-unnamed-because-I-don’t-want-to-admit-shopping-there! She called out to us. She looks fabulous! She has dropped thirty pounds since last I saw her, and not using anything like hoodia weight loss pills. She’ a babe!

We talked for a few minutes, exchanged contact info, and learned we live quite close to each other. Is it wrong that I want to rekindle this relationship? I miss Maria so much, and have mentioned that once or twice (or three times) on this little blog. She and I had a rough start, but when our FIL passed away in Colombia back in 2000, and the brothers and my MIL flew to Colombia for a week, we stayed together, drove back and forth to Miami together, and really got to know each other, and formed a strong friendship. And then that was destroyed the way divorce can destroy friendships.

I lament to Sherlock quite regularly about how much I miss Maria. Tony and Maria and sherlock and I used to regularly get together for various activities. Those were the days. Sigh. There’s no reason we cannot try to build a new friendship with Maria and her new husband.

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Happy Anniversary Cousin and Cousin-in-Law!

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Three years ago today:

~Frantically packing the final stuff at the old house
~Lots and lots of crying as I lost my ability to cope with the stress
~Renting more and more trucks as we ran out of room and couldn’t unload until 5p
~Regular hissy fits as I lost my ability to cope with the stress
~Two stressful closings
~Home

And this year, we are no longer living in fear of foreclosure thanks to Friday’s wonderful news!

UPDATED: Link to pictures prettified, thank you sherlock.

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Today was the Ides of March, right?

Happy Sic Semper Tyrannus day! Thus Always to Tyrants!

And, as has become my custom on Sic Semper Tyrannus day, I give you a completely useless quote that takes up space in my brain (since we had to recite it before every Western Civ class my sophomore year of college):

Thinking cannot be carried on without the materials of thought. And the materials of thought are facts, or else assertions that are presented as facts. A mass of details stored up in the mind does not in itself make a thinker. But on the other hand, thinking is absolutely impossible without that mass of details. And it is just this latter impossible operation of thinking without the materials of thought which is being advocated by modern pedagogy, and is being put into practice, only too well, by modern students. In the presence of this tendency, we believe that facts and hard work ought again to be allowed to come to their rights. It is impossible to think with an empty mind.

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